


A Ghost of a Lovers Past

by Assbuttinatrenchcoat



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, M/M, ghost au, ghost laurens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 07:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10657455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assbuttinatrenchcoat/pseuds/Assbuttinatrenchcoat
Summary: Hamilton AU where, after John's death his ghost gets attached to Philip.





	A Ghost of a Lovers Past

**Author's Note:**

> I already published part of this story on Wattpad, but I wanted to republish it on here ^>^
> 
> Enjoy!

Alexander couldn't believe what he was hearing "On Tuesday the 27th my son was killed against british troops retreating from North Carolina" John Laurens his best friend... the person he loved maybe as much as he loved his wife and son.. dead.

He picked up his pen, letting it press against the paper as he dragged it, heartbroken words leaking through the pen.

"Alexander?" A worried Eliza asked looking at her husband frowning "What's the matter, dear?"

"I have so much work to do" He muttered shooing Eliza away.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

John knew he was dead, he had felt the bullet hit him, taking his life away in the heat of the battle, and yet... he felt no pain, he dabbed his hand on his abdomen, it felt smooth and dry, not at all how he expected, if he had been shot, shouldn't it be red and soaked with blood?

He shook his head, he wasn't dead and that's all that mattered at the moment, he looked around, he was in an office? What?

That's when he heard it, a loud heartwrenching sob coming from a man in a green coat, he was laying on the desk, the man's head buried in his arms.

Alexander  
Why was he crying? He reached out to him, taking quick notice to his arm, it was... clear? The sudden realization hit him like a bus, he had died... he was a ghost, and even worse he doubted Alexander could even see him.

The silence was truly haunting, Alexander's head was deeply buried in his arms with no sign of moving, had he fallen asleep? There was no way John could tell for sure, as told by when he tried to reach for him, reach for his best friend, in an attempt to comfort him, his hand fazed right through, and as by the will of someone else, definitely not his own, John was being pulled slowly away from his friend, it was like a vacuum was sucking him away.

He stopped fighting it, there was no point in it after all, he soon found himself in a small room, Eliza Hamilton, Alexander's wife was leaning over a small woven basket, cooing at whatever was inside. Why was he here? What could possibly be more important than being with Alexander, when he needed it the most?

He slowly glided towards the basket, gasping as he saw what was inside.

A small toddler, that couldn't have been more than 6 months old, was grabbing his mothers finger, giggling at her silly faces and the words she was saying.

"Don't worry about your father, my son'' She said smiling softly "He is going through something difficult, and I'm sure he would love to see you, isn't that right, Philip?''

The baby, Philip kicked the air laughing, as if he understood what his mother was trying to say.

''Philip, huh? You're going to be great kid, I can feel it'' He said smiling at the baby, not that he expected the boy to answer.

Philip quickly turned his head to face him, his bright eyes staring at him, his small chubby fist reaching for John's face.

He took a step back, could Philip see him? How was that even possible? He had fazed right through Alex, and Eliza seemed to take no notice that he was even there.

''J-j-oh'' muttered Philip, struggling with his words

He smiled ''That's right John. John Laurens''

''Jawn!" said Philip breaking into a small fit of giggles.

John smiled as he saw Philip, now of age 4, playing in Alexander's office, his chubby hands grabbing pieces from Eliza's chessboard and throwing them around. Philip still couldn't talk, but somehow he knew how to say his mother name, and say Jawn, it didn't even matter to him that his name was said incorrectly, it had been 3 years since he had died, and Philip being the only one that could see him, managed to make him happy all the time, even if Alexander couldn't talk to him and see him.

''How's my son doing?" Asked Alexander as he walked into his office and picked Philip up, kissing his nose.

Philip smiled widely ''Papa!''

Eliza walked in shortly, giving Alexander a quick peck to the lips ''Alexander, you have a letter from Hercules Mulligan''

John stood up, and watched as Philip stared at him atently, Hercules huh? Why would he be writing to Alex, he knew that him and Lafayette had cut contact when he died,.

Alexander seemed to have the same reaction, as he snatched the letter from Eliza's hand, ripping it open, and pulling out a short piece of paper, with messy black scribbles.

''My dear friend, Alexander'' He said reading the letter out loud ''I am quite happy to inform you, that I have returned from my apprenticeship in New Jersey and me and Lafayette will be paying a visit to you and your family, I hear you have a son? I cannot wait to meet him, Laf has recently returned from France, and he is quite excited as well, ever since our friend John Laurens parted from us, I've been looking for an excuse to not visit New York, but I reckon it's time I return. Best wishes to you and your wife,

Hercules Mulligan''

John watched as Alexander's face broke into a grin ''This is amazing! I have waited so long to see them''

That's when Philip started fussing and wailing.

"What's wrong, my dear?'' said Eliza as she took Philip from Alexander's arms and started soothing him.

He sniffled ''Jawn! I wan Jawn!'' He said crying.

Eliza froze, and so did Alexander, ''What did you say, my boy?'' said Alex carefully

''Jawn!''

''Alex, my love, he must have heard the name from the letter, don't fret about it'' she said offering him a soft smile, and patting Philip's back until he calmed down.

''Yes, I'm sure it's that'' He said frowning, looking around the empty room, his eyes glossing right over John. 

"I mean it couldn't be possible.. could it?''

Eliza let out a short laugh ''Don't be ridiculous, Alexander, he's dead, as much as we may hate that fact, it won't change''

John sat in the back of the room, a frown on his face as he saw, Hercules and Lafayette greeting everyone as they had just arrived, how he longed to be able to hug them, to talk to them..

Lafayette was cooing at Philip, tickling him, and yet Philip was not laughing, he had a small pout on his face, "What's wrong, my boy?" Asked Laf, smiling down at him.

"Ah, he's just tired" said Eliza taking him from Lafayette's arms "He didn't sleep last night, did you dear?"

Philip violently shook his head.

"Really? Why not, Pip?" Asked Hercules, who was taking a long drink from a cup of what looked like alcohol.

"Jawn! I was wit J-Jawn!" Muttered Philip, stammering slightly with his words.

There was a loud crash, as Hercules dropped his glass.

Eliza immediately started cleaning the spill with a rag.

"Oh Eliza I'm so s-sorry!" Stammered Hercules, crouching down and picking up pieces of glass.

"It's alright" She said smiling at him "This has happened several times, seems our little boy has an imaginary friend"

John scoffed walking near the rest of the group, an imaginary friend? Yeah right.

Hercules and Lafayette nodded.

"So particular, that his name is John.." Lafayette murmured

I sighed in frustration, why was poetry so hard? Dad would be home any minute and I still wasn't finished.

A light hand was set on my shoulder "Watcha working on there, Kiddo?" John asked smiling at me.

I grinned up at him "It's my ninth birthday today, and I wanted to write a poem for dad, but I don't know what I'm doing"

He ruffled my hair, or tried to at least, as his hand fazed right through "I wanna hear what ya got"

I cleared my throat "My name is Philip, I am a poet, I wrote this poem just to show it and I just turned nine, you can write rhymes but you can't write mine! I practice French and play piano with my mother, I have a little sister, but I want a little brother, my daddy's trying to start America's bank! Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq!" I finished excitedly, looking up at him.

He clapped "Philip! That's amazing!"

"You think dad'll like it?"

He smiled "He'll love it"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Philip hid behind the door to his fathers study, where he was leant over a large stack of papers.

"Take a break" said his mothers soft voice.

"I'm on my way" muttered Alexander

"There's a little surprise before supper and it cannot wait"

"I'll be there in a second, save my plate"

"Alexander! Your son is nine years old today, he has something he'd like to say, he's been working all day! Philip take it away!"

"Daddy, daddy look-!" he yelled running put from behind the wall.

"My name is Philip, I am a poet, I wrote this poem just to show it and I just turned nine, you can write rhymes but you can't write mine! I practice French and play piano with my mother, I have a little sister, but I want a little brother, my daddy's trying to start America's bank! Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq!"

John could see, even from his place in the back of the room, Philip's smile that could compete with the sun.

"Bravo-!" clapped Alex, hugging Philip tightly.

Philip whipped his head to the back, and smiled brighter than any star in the sky at me.


End file.
